


The Beast

by overwhelmingly_awesome



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley Through The Ages (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is a Giant Snake, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Blood, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Snuddling (snake cuddling), Swordfighting, Tender Sex, medieval times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:08:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23165245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overwhelmingly_awesome/pseuds/overwhelmingly_awesome
Summary: Aziraphale is sent with a team of knights to slay the beast that's been killing men along the river.Things are a bit more complicated than that, when the beast turns out to be an old friend, who gets injured along the way.For the Great Good Omens Snake Off!
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 35
Kudos: 323
Collections: The Snake Pit, Top Aziraphale Recs





	1. The Fight

**Author's Note:**

> this is for the great good omens snake off! Thanks to @summerofspock for letting me be a part of this cool event! 
> 
> Alright, so just a quick note before we get into things, this is a sort of canon-divergence fic. I'm a sucker for fics where Aziraphale and Crowley are together long before armageddon, hiding it from their bosses, but not from each other. They might not discuss it, but they're in love. Enjoy! 

Aziraphale watched as the men cut their way through the forest, forging their path onwards. Even the men who weren't cutting the bushes and trees were clinging to their swords desperately, the quick beating of their hearts and the scent of their anxiety filling the air, as they listened as carefully as they could to the sounds of nature around them. 

Aziraphale followed them closely, his own sword drawn, as he took up the rear of the pack. His heart beat slower than those of his companions, but he could admit to his breath catching at each slide against leaves, listening for the hissing that would signal that the beast was near.

Aziraphale felt his armour lay heavy against him. Sure, his strength wasn't exactly equal to that of a normal man, but he still felt the creaking in the joints, and the stiffness of his neck. He'd managed to convince the men to avoid the full set of armour, opting for only the chest plate and chainmail, as they made their way through the damp foliage around them. Aziraphale could miracle away rust and dirt, but the smell of wet cloth under armour? That would linger in his nose for nearly a decade. It was better to avoid it whenever possible. Besides, Aziraphale hardly believed that the beast in question even existed, opting instead for the belief that it was a misidentified snake, or simply a trick to embarrass a few knights. It had happened before. 

If there was a beast, however, Aziraphale would make sure that miraculous escapes were had from any near fatal injury. If he focused, and kept his guard up, he could protect most of the men, who were already quite capable in their own right. 

Aziraphale thought back to the description of the beast. 

_Forty feet long_. 

_Dark as night, his underbelly rich with the color of blood._

_Fangs longer than a dagger, and sharper than any blade._

Snakes over the size of a forearm were above average around here, so Aziraphale had immediately decided to investigate the beast for himself. There had been other rumours as well, but Aziraphale had elected to ignore them. If there was a beast, it would be nothing more than a snake from down south that had accidentally chartered a passage on some unsuspecting ship.

Aziraphale ducked under a branch of leaves that threatened to dampen his hair further than the mist already had. 

_Of course,_ Aziraphale had thought, _it could be a certain someone, causing mischief_. 

A certain snake-like counterpart of the angel's, who favored a similar form to the beast. He'd been nearby for almost a century, hovering around Europe (and around Aziraphale), causing mischief and creating a general sense of unrest. Aziraphale would have immediately thought of the demon, had it not been for the latest development in the beast's activity: it had killed three men as they travelled along the river. They'd been found with two-pronged puncture wounds the size of ice picks, and their ribs had been crushed. 

Crowley caused low-grade chaos. He didn't murder knights. 

Aziraphale's boots crunched a root underneath his foot, and he noticed the sky beginning to darken around them. The trek had taken longer than expected, as the path had ended abruptly about an hour ago, and now the men were forced to travel through the lingering sunset, into the dusk. 

" _How much further?_ " He whispered to his companion ahead of him, who had begun to white-knuckle the sword so tightly that Aziraphale worried for the circulation in his fingers. 

" _It's getting close, sir. A few more minutes, then we'll be at the river._ " 

Aziraphale steadied himself. 

The men cut through the last few branches before reaching the river, spreading out into the clearing. The riverbed was more damp than the rest of the forest had been, with mud seeping into their shoes, and the smell of the river wafting into their lungs. Aziraphale's hair clung to his forehead with the humid air. 

The men were silent as they explored the edge of the river, the soft roar of the water drowning out much of the noise around them. 

Suddenly, one of the men dropped to the ground, calling the others over to him. He'd found a deep rut into the ground, coming from the river. It wound and shook, curving along the mud, leading downstream. It wasn't a footprint, Aziraphale supposed, but he couldn't think of what to call it. Regardless of the term, it was clearly left by a snake-like creature. 

The men began to follow it. 

It trailed down the riverbank for over a mile, and after following it for some time, the sky had continued to darken, until the men could hardly see the trail they were following. They trudged forwards for a few more moments, before Aziraphale found himself tripping over his feet. 

Aziraphale called out to the group. 

" _It's too dark_ ," he said, trying to catch the attention of the front of pack, " _We can't continue on like this. We should take a break._ " 

The men agreed. They pulled away from the mud of the river, into the slightly dryer earth of the forest. 

They set up their bed rolls that they'd strung to their backs, and hid themselves under the forest’s cover of leaves. Aziraphale tried to ignore the mud creeping in beneath his white tunic, and the scratch of twigs against his neck. 

Eventually, he drifted off to sleep. 

+×+×+×+

He awoke to the sound of screaming, as he narrowly avoided being stepped on by another member of his party. 

He rolled to the side, clutching his sword, before climbing to his feet. 

He whipped around, trying to pinpoint the source of the chaos. The men were all up on their feet, running towards the riverbank, where Aziraphale continued to hear panicked yells, and the ghastly sound of a creature hissing. 

He threw on his breastplate, to have some sort of protection, before launching himself forwards. He broke through the barrier of trees within moments, finally coming face to face with the beast. 

The reports of the creature had not been exaggerated. It was longer than any serpent he'd seen in the whole of his existence, with deep black scales along its back, that glimmered against the moonlight, with deep crimson scales that spread over its belly. It had clearly climbed out of the river, the water rolling off of it in rivulets as it darted around the riverbank. 

Armed only with fangs longer than Aziraphale's forearms, it hissed at the collection of knights, wrapping its coils around one of the men. It glanced around quickly, before setting its sights on Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale was met by familiar amber eyes, both laced with an unfamiliar look of fear. 

" _Crowley_!" He found himself yelling, throwing himself towards the demon. 

The serpent released the man he'd been clutching, in favor of turning towards the river once more. 

_He's trying to escape_ , Aziraphale realized. He tried to pull the men back, but they were determined to go after the beast. 

The man who had been in his clutches drew his sword from the ground, one arm resting against his armour that looked suspiciously like a crushed can, and lunged towards Crowley, boots digging into the mud. He thrust the sword at the demon ferociously, as he tried to slither off into the depths of the river.

Another one of the men launched an arrow at the snake, but Aziraphale was quick enough to snap his fingers, causing the arrow to narrowly miss its target. 

Crowley writhed madly, trying to escape the barrage of weapons against him, the end of his long body whipping out to strike the men nearby. Aziraphale watched as he hissed and bared his fangs at the knights, throwing the odd bite in their direction, each one just inches shy of hitting its target. 

One of the men finally succeeded in landing a forceful blow against the demon, and Aziraphale watched as the sword ricocheted off of the night-black scales, the force throwing the knight backwards into the river. 

Aziraphale quickly threw his sword and armour to the ground, diving in after the man. He quickly pulled him to shore, then ran back to the scene of the fight. 

Crowley dove around desperately, trying to return to the river. He continued to knock the men backwards, but they continued to advance on him, trapping him between them. He bared his fangs at them, hissing wildly, but the men had gathered their courage, and were prepared to slay the beast.

Aziraphale frantically looked for his own weapon. 

Suddenly, the scene slowed down in front of his eyes. One of the men had grabbed Aziraphale's weapon after his own had been thrown into the river and was darting towards Crowley. He swung the blade across the side of the serpent's body, the point catching under the scales, slicing into the demon. 

Crowley hissed, and Aziraphale saw a thin stream of smoke curling up from the wound. Crowley's gaze flickered to Aziraphale, a sense of horror dawning on them both. 

Crowley was nearly impervious to iron or steel weaponry, but the sword had been Aziraphale's. Any weapon wielded by an agent of God became something stronger than most metals on earth, and was able to cut into the demon with very little effort. Aziraphale watched as the serpent began to bleed out into the mud, before finally landing a steady blow onto the man between him and the river. 

He dove into the clear water, leaving red clouds of blood in his wake as he fled the scene. 

One of the men started to run along the riverbank, following the serpent, but Aziraphale stopped him forcefully, sending them both tumbling into the mud. 

"I _t's been mortally wounded_ ," Aziraphale panted, " _it'll die within the night. It's useless to follow_."

God did he hope he was wrong. 

+×+×+×+

The moon was still high in the sky when Crowley retreated down into the water, and the men knew better than to head home immediately. They tucked themselves away once more into the dense foliage around them, and began to tend to their wounds as best they could. 

There weren't many injuries beyond bruises, with a couple broken arms, and a few ribs that Aziraphale guessed were broken from the shallow breathing of the men. As the men drifted off to sleep, he healed a few of them, or tried to ease their pain. 

One of the men stared blankly upward, his brow furrowed. Aziraphale waited for a moment, to see if he'd call out to the men, or finally settle into an uneasy sleep, but the moment never came. Aziraphale asked if he was alright. 

"I'm alright," he whispered, "just confused." The man turned to Aziraphale, and he could see the storm of emotions in his eyes. The man clenched his fists tightly.

"Confused?"

The man sighed. "He could have killed us all, a hundred times over." The men tossed a rock into the air, only to catch it. "He nearly bit us over a dozen times, he could have crushed us… I just don't understand why he didn't." 

Aziraphale nodded. He couldn't very well reveal the nature of the serpent, but he knew exactly why Crowley had avoided injuring them severely. Crowley didn't kill people, or at least, Aziraphale thought he didn't. 

The encounter had added a few questions dancing in his mind, about the murder of the three men on the river. Crowley wouldn't even kill the men blatantly attacking him - why would he kill three unarmed men? 

The man across from Aziraphale turned to face him slightly. 

"And I mean, what are the odds of us finding him like that?"

Aziraphale shot him a questioning look. "What do you mean?" 

The man sat up slightly, and shrugged. "A few of us had gone down to the river - couldn't sleep, you know? Then all of a sudden, we see him gliding along in the water. We grabbed our swords, and…" he gestured to the river. 

Aziraphale felt sick. Crowley hadn't even started the fight against the men. He'd just been minding his own business, when the men, Aziraphale's men, had attacked him out of the blue. He sighed. 

"Luck, I suppose." _Rotten luck, but luck nonetheless._

After a few more moments, Aziraphale saw to it that the man fell asleep along with the others. He watched over the men as they slept, until morning. 

+×+×+×+

When the morning came, Aziraphale found the man who had been leading the expedition. His arm was wrapped in a sling, with a dark purple bruise across his cheek. 

He'd decided to leave the group. He wanted to find Crowley, in whatever state he was in, to either offer his apology, help him clean his wounds, or something. He needed to see the demon, if only to put his fears to rest. If Crowley had been killed because of his men… Aziraphale would never forgive himself. He wasn't sure that Crowley would either. 

He told the man that he had family nearby, and wished to visit them before returning home with the men. He parted ways with them just as the sun rose, and began his trek down the river. 

He didn't know exactly where he was going, he simply followed the direction of the river as far as he could, in the same direction that Crowley had fled. He saw the occasional scale or track in the mud, to lead him towards the demon, but beyond those, he simply hoped he was heading in the right direction. 

After almost an hour of walking along the riverbank, Aziraphale's boots were caked in mud, and he could feel his legs begin to twinge from exertion. 

He paused beside the river, to fill his flask of water, when he saw something flash in the corner of his eye. He approached the object warily. 

It was a deep black scale - clearly Crowley's - caught on a low hanging branch at the side of the forest. Aziraphale took it in his hands, and was able to see a deep rut in the forest's plants, roughly the width of an above average serpent.

He could see a few more scales glistening in the sunlight, before the trail darkened into the thick of the forest.

He sent a quick thank you, upwards, before trudging into the greenery to follow the trail. 

He walked for a quarter of an hour, in near total darkness. The sun had risen hours ago, but this part of the forest was so densely packed with trees, he could only see the occasional fleck of sunlight amongst the canopy of leaves.

Soon, Aziraphale the forest thinned out, exposing a larger clearing. In the middle of the clearing - which was still very much covered from the sunlight - there was the opening to a large cave, the mouth of which was settled into a rocky hill. 

Aziraphale could see a faint tinge of blood against the flattened grass, as he approached the entrance. 

He entered tentatively. 

The near darkness obstructed most of the cave's finer details, but as Aziraphale entered, he could see the night-black curve of the serpent, wrapped up in large coils against the cool rock. 

He felt his boots dipping into a damp substance, which had pooled in the uneven divots of the floor.

 _Blood_. 

Aziraphale's breath caught in his throat. He snapped quickly, illuminating the room. He was met, once again, with the round black coils of the demon, sticky with blood. The serpent was frighteningly still, spread around the cave roughly, his coils bent at odd angles. He looked as though he'd made it home, and just… stopped. Aziraphale approached him, his heart beating rapidly in his throat. 

He reached out, his hand shaking, to feel Crowley's scales. They were nearly icy to the touch, but he could feel the ever slow beating of the demon's heart underneath. He let out a sigh of relief.

He snapped once more, creating a soft fire in the middle of the cave, just far enough away from the sleeping demon that he wouldn't be burned, but hopefully large enough to warm up the cave a smidge, to bring Crowley back to consciousness. He also piled the ground with a large spool of bandages, some clean water, and a cloth. 

He sought out the gash in the side of the snake, which was roughly three feet long, and began to clean it. He brought the cloth to the wound, beginning to wash away the dried blood. He inched closer and closer to the wound, careful to not hurt the serpent further, but as he approached the wound itself, he felt the scales jump under his touch. 

Suddenly, Crowley jolted awake, wrapping around Aziraphale tightly, pulling him from the ground. The serpent hissed at Aziraphale, his eyes unfocused, while tightening his grip on the angel. 

Aziraphale dropped the cloth, struggling against the coil wrapping itself around his chest. 

" _Crowley_!" He gasped, his strength failing him against the demon. 

Aziraphale watched as recognition faded in on the serpent's features, his mouth pulling to a close as he loosened his grip. Crowley however, refused to put him down. 

He wrapped once around Aziraphale's midsection, and another time around his thighs. The tip of his tail wrapped around one of Aziraphale's wrists, slinking its way up his arm. He was forced to drop the cloth onto the floor of the cave.

" _Crowley_ ," Aziraphale said, patting his free hand against the scales clutching him tightly, " _put me down_." 

Crowley squeezed him tighter briefly, before holding him up higher in the air. 

Aziraphale watched as he uncoiled himself, circling around the cave to stretch himself out, before settling down, his head turned towards the angel. 

His large amber eyes stared at him unrelentingly, his tongue flickering out quickly.

 _Azzzziraphale_ , Crowley murmured, his voice echoing softly within the confines of Aziraphale's head. 

Aziraphale paused in his attempts to free himself from the serpent's grip. 

"Crowley," he said softly, "please put me down." 

The demon hissed at him, but without the sting that had been present earlier. He lowered Aziraphale to the ground, but instead of releasing him, he wrapped himself up underneath the soft angel, setting him down on top of him, still thoroughly tangled up around him. He set his head down atop Aziraphale's lap, flickering his tongue once before settling down contentedly. 

Aziraphale sighed, but let himself relax slightly. 

_What are you doing here?_ The serpent asked, dragging the syllables on lazily. 

Aziraphale huffed. He didn't often like feeling immobile, but he could feel the steady thrum of Crowley's heartbeat through his scales, he thought that the texture wasn't at all unpleasant."Well, I _was_ trying to clean your wound."

Crowley tilted his head. It was hard, as a snake, to express your emotions across your face, but Crowley was succeeding swimmingly at shooting the angel a curious expression. _You don't have to do that_ , he drawled, _I can do it. Later._

Aziraphale tutted. "You've lost more blood than a human has in their whole body." Aziraphale had seen it. It was caked under his shoes and under his nails. He'd seen it in the river. " Please, let me." 

Crowley let out a deep breath. _Alright_. He thought for a moment. _Later_. 

Aziraphale nodded in agreement. He found himself softly stroking Crowley's soft scales. His hand fit perfectly atop the crown of his head, his fingers running pleasantly up the bridge of Crowley's nose. 

They stayed there like that, for a moment, before Crowley adjusted underneath the angel, hissing out in pain. Aziraphale winced.

"I'm so sorry Crowley," he breathed. His fingers stalling atop the serpent. Crowley nudged them softly, seeking out the touch once more. 

_Mm. About what?_ Crowley's voice was similar to normal, but slightly more relaxed and drawn out. He sounded as if he'd woken up from a long nap.

"The men. My sword. I wouldn't have come if I'd known-" 

_If you'd known it was me?_ He laughed, in a way that Aziraphale realized was more hissing than laughter. _You would have still come._

"Perhaps." He felt Crowley shift underneath him. "But I would have been more prepared. I wouldn't have let the man take my weapon." 

Crowley hissed, remembering the sword. 

_It was a holy sword_ , he said, his breath catching slightly. _I didn't expect holy weapons._

Aziraphale nodded. "I know. I'm so sorry." 

_Mm_. The demon let the tip of his tail wrap lazily up Aziraphale's arm, feeling the soft skin of his wrist. _It's alright. It wasn't you doing the swinging._

Crowley nuzzled up closer to Aziraphale, settling atop his chest as the angel leaned backwards. 

_I couldn't heal myself,_ he said, quietly. _I was scared, angel._

"I know." Beat. "I was too." 

Aziraphale felt Crowley tighten around him, clutching him securely. He pulled his head away from Aziraphale's lap, and wrapped once more around his chest, his head landing atop the angel's shoulder. The fire flickered on behind them, casting dramatic shadows around the room.

"It's shallow though, from what I can tell. It'll heal. In time." 

Crowley hummed, a deep vibration that settled in the back of Aziraphale's mind. 

_It might leave a scar_ , he said, his voice lighter than it had been a few moments ago. 

"Oh?" Aziraphale questioned, "well you don't often use this corporation, so I suppose though you'll know it's there, it'll be well hidden."

Crowley shook his head. _On this body yes, but on the other one as well_. 

Aziraphale thought back to the fiery haired form he'd grown accustomed to. "If you're injured in one corporation, it transfers to the other?"

Crowley hummed his assent. _It's been known to happen._

Aziraphale sighed. "Well I'm sure it wouldn't be that bad."

 _Oh, I don't know, angel_. He flicked the tip of his tail. _Perhaps you've ruined my beauty. A hideous scar? I don't know how I'll ever be able to tempt anyone ever again. You've truly thwarted me._ His voice, which Aziraphale could feel down to his bones, was heavy with sarcasm. 

Aziraphale stroked along the scales holding him tightly around his chest. "You'll always be beautiful my dear. Scar or no scar."

 _Mmm_ , Crowley murmured. _Flatterer_. He let his tongue flicker out quickly, brushing the shell of Aziraphale's ear. 

They stayed there for a moment, letting the fire warm the serpent. Aziraphale watched as Crowley began to fade, his head dipping drowsily. 

"My dear," he said softly, "let me finish cleaning the cut, please." 

Crowley began to unravel himself. _Alright_. He set Aziraphale down onto the solid ground, and unwrapped himself from him. His tail slid gently down around his wrist, and he pulled himself away. He circled the cave for a moment, until the cut was exposed to Aziraphale. _Be gentle._

"Of course."

Aziraphale stood up, and brushed himself off. 

He righted the bucket of water, and clutched the cloth once more. 

He looked to Crowley, before continuing to clean the cut. Crowley watched him for a moment, warming himself by the fire. He rested his head against himself, softly facing the angel, who continued to softly press the damp cloth to the scales. 

After a few moments, the brown blood sharpened to a copper red, and Aziraphale set aside the cloth.

"Lift up for a moment, dearest, if you can. I'm going to bandage this up."

Crowley hummed softly. _Mmm. Dearest?_ He questioned. _Alright_. He lifted himself upwards, and Aziraphale could wrap the bandage around him tightly, before tying it off. Crowley was about a foot in diameter, so Aziraphale was able to wrap his arms around him relatively easily, as he worked. 

Crowley set himself back to the cool rock floor of the cave. 

"There," Aziraphale said, setting the bucket and the cloth to the side.

 _Sssatisfied_? Crowley said mockingly.

"Very." 

_Good_. 

Crowley whipped around quickly, once again wrapping himself around the angel. Gathering himself up into a rough pile next to the fire, he draped himself over Aziraphale, who now - much to his surprise - lay back against the ground. Crowley curled up against his front, his head settled firmly onto the softness of Aziraphale's chest and stomach.

"Really, Crowley. You needn't drag me around," he settled himself. "I'll come willingly if you just ask." 

Crowley wriggled his head, tucking it under Aziraphale's chin. _I know_. His tongue flicked out against Aziraphale's neck. _But this is more fun._

Aziraphale chuckled, and watched as the serpent wrapped around his leg. He hadn't been this close to the demon in ages, in any form. The coolness of his scales felt nice, and he knew how much Crowley enjoyed the warmth of him.

Aziraphale let his fingers run over the ridges of Crowley's scale, tracing patterns into the serpent's back. He followed the jagged line of crimson scales that led onto his stomach, and felt Crowley slowly release the tension he'd been holding in, relaxing against Aziraphale's front, and tucking his head into the crook of his neck. He melted slowly, the coils still wrapped around Aziraphale's leg slipping off slowly. 

Aziraphale found himself slid into a different position as Crowley drowsily shifted. 

"Crowley?" He prompted, sending a quick glance to the bandages wrapped around the serpent, reminding them of their obligation to stay tied and in place. 

_'M tired, angel_. His voice trickled into Aziraphale's mind, rumbling softly. 

"I'll be here, Crowley. Get some rest." He adjusted slightly, to avoid jostling the demon too much, before settling. 

Crowley let out a soft groan, before drifting off to sleep. 


	2. Afterwards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley wakes up to find himself back in his normal corporation. Alone. With Aziraphale. In a cave. Whatever will they get up to?

When Crowley awoke, he found himself draped over the angel, in an entirely different fashion. 

His knee was crooked up over Aziraphale's hips, and his arm was draped lazily over his chest. Aziraphale had wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close, it seemed, before drifting off to sleep himself. 

Crowley stretched once, in his usual corporation, remembering the feel of his fingers, his toes, and the joints that ached slightly as he moved. He felt his hair settled over Aziraphale's arm, longer than usual, but not outrageously so. 

He was also clothed in a deep black cloth, pinned up at his shoulders like he'd worn in ancient Greece. His sides were mostly exposed, and Crowley could feel the slightly coarser wrap of bandages around his middle. They were caked in dried blood, but as far as he could tell, there hadn't been any new bleeding in some time. 

How long had he been asleep? 

He remembered wrapping around the angel, feeling the soft skin of him underneath his scales. He remembered the warmth that always seemed to radiate from him, that he could still feel under his palms. Aziraphale had settled down after Crowley had begun to drift off to sleep, running his smooth fingers over Crowley's scales. 

Aziraphale's hand still lingered at Crowley's hip. 

The last time they'd been wrapped up like this had been in Rome. They'd had oysters, and as they'd done a handful of times before, they'd ended up in bed. Perhaps in different circumstances, but in bed nonetheless.

Crowley had woken up in Aziraphale's arms before, but Crowley couldn't remember a time when the angel had fallen asleep. 

He watched him now, careful not to disturb him. He could see his blonde eyelashes fluttering atop his soft cheeks, and he could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest. Momentarily, Crowley considered rolling away from the angel. He felt as though he was taking advantage, clinging onto him as he was, siphoning the angel's warmth through the touch of his skin.

The angel was more dressed than Crowley, with a cream-white tunic and brown trousers, designed to fit under his armour. His sleeves however, were rolled up at the elbow, and his trousers ended just below the knee, revealing the milk white skin of his wrists and ankles. He had seen, he'd felt much more of Aziraphale, but each glimpse of the angel felt stolen, filed away in his mind for daydreams. 

As if Aziraphale could see into his mind, he stirred, pulling the demon closer to him. Crowley felt the sturdy softness of his arms, as his fingers splayed over his hips. 

"Good morning, my dear _ ,"  _ he said softly. 

"Morning?" Crowley questioned, "I think it's closer to the afternoon, angel." 

Aziraphale chuckled. He ran his hand down Crowley's side, feeling for the bandage wrapped around his middle. "How's this holding up?" He asked, letting his fingers dance around the skin before the bandage. 

Crowley leaned into the touch. "Well, I think. Doesn't hurt so much now." 

Aziraphale hummed. "Good." 

Crowley looked up to see Aziraphale's face. A little bit of sunlight was leaking into the cave, brightening his features. He realized the fire had died down sometime in the night. 

'When did I shift back?" He asked, tucking his foot experimentally around Aziraphale's calf. 

Aziraphale shrugged. "A few hours after you fell asleep. I rewrapped your cut, then I suppose I must have joined you." 

Crowley sighed. "After you miracled me up some clothing, I see." 

He watched as Aziraphale's lips drew into a smile. "Yes, that too." He shifted, drawing Crowley nearly on top of his chest. Crowley didn't mind. "I didn't think it was right, leaving you all bare, other than your bandages."

Crowley smirked. "You've seen me in less, angel." 

Aziraphale let his hand wander down to Crowley's hips. "Yes, I suppose I have, but you were asleep. I erred on the side of caution."

Crowley pulled himself flush to Aziraphale. The angel was so  _ warm.  _ He supposed the effects of travelling as a snake had lingered. 

Aziraphale pulled back slightly, and Crowley let out a small whine that he would deny making if pressed. 

"My dear," Aziraphale said softly, "I'd like to check your bandages, if you'd be amenable." 

Crowley sighed, and pulled back off of Aziraphale. He let the angel sit himself upright, facing the demon. He felt the absence of heat immediately. Crowley kneeled next to him, letting his hands fall in his lap.

"Could I un-pin you, my dear?" He said, his hands drifting to Crowley's shoulders. Crowley nodded. 

Aziraphale gently plucked the pins - some golden snake pendants, that Crowley thought were  _ almost  _ too on the nose - letting the black cloth fall at Crowley's hips. 

Aziraphale delicately began to unwrap the demon, his lips pursed as he tried not to cause him any pain. Crowley watched as his tongue peeked out as he focused. 

Soon, Crowley was free from the cotton bandages. Aziraphale ran one of his hands down Crowley's left side, where the cut had been. In its place now, thanks to some supernatural healing abilities, lay a pink scar, that ran from his ribs to his hips. Aziraphale traced it with one careful finger. 

"Does it hurt?" He asked, looking up to meet Crowley's eyes. 

Crowley shook his head. 

Aziraphale sighed. "You were right about it leaving a scar."

"So it's hideous? I'm forever ruined in the eyes of the public?" Crowley said dramatically. 

"Oh definitely," he laughed. He brought the pins back up with the cloth. "Quite the opposite, my dear. You're quite dashing now, like one of the heroes in one of the myths the humans keep coming up with." 

"Mm. More like the villain, angel." He smiled. 

"Oh, I don't know about that." Aziraphale tucked a red strand of hair behind Crowley's ear. Then his smile faltered. Crowley saw the lightness that had been in his eyes fade away. 

"I'm so sorry, Crowley." 

Crowley frowned. "Don't be. Like I said, it wasn't you who swung the sword." 

Aziraphale gathered Crowley's hands in his, and kissed them softly. Crowley's heart beat quickly in his chest. 

"It was my sword. I should have been more careful."

Crowley scoffed. "You couldn't have done anything else. Frankly, the men wouldn't have stopped fighting me if I hadn't been injured, so even if it  _ was  _ your fault - which it still isn't - you would have been doing me a favour."

Aziraphale sighed, then nodded. "I suppose." 

Crowley tilted his head, watching Aziraphale's mind toss and turn.

"Thank you for taking care of me," he said softly.

"If I hadn't let them hurt you, you wouldn't  _ need _ -"

"Ah ah ah, angel, take the thank you as it is, please." He laughed. Then, he furrowed his brow, thinking for a moment. "You and the men were looking for me. Why?"

Aziraphale looked up at him, one eyebrow raised. "Why did the knights want to slay a beast?"

Crowley snorted. "I suppose you have a point. But I've been wondering around creating some low-grade fear for weeks - why now?" 

Aziraphale's face shifted. He let Crowley's hands fall to his lap. 

"Three men were killed by the river. Deep puncture wounds, crushed ribs, that sort of thing. The men assumed it was you." 

Crowley shook his head. "I don't kill people, angel, you know that." 

"I know. That's why I didn't realize you were the beast until I saw you. In the men's defense, it really did look like a big snake bite-"

" _ I don't kill humans, _ " Crowley said coldly. 

" _ I know _ ," Aziraphale shot back. "It must have been someone taking advantage of the whole situation. If it looks like an ice-pick wound, well-"

"Maybe it's just an ice-pick." Crowley relaxed. 

Aziraphale sent him a small smile. "I'll investigate it further when I get back to town." 

Crowley let out a deep sigh, and tucked spread his legs out against the floor. There were a few furs that hadn't been there last night, but he certainly appreciated them now. The angel was letting his hands drift along Crowley's arm, his soft fingers tracing patterns in his skin.

Crowley tilted his head slightly, to face the angel. "You really like doing that, don't you. In any form."

Aziraphale laughed breathily, "I hadn't realized I was doing it. I can stop, if you'd like." 

Crowley shook his head. "Don't stop on my account, angel." He paused. "It feels good."

Aziraphale smiled. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, before pulling Crowley on top of him, his legs straddling the angel's thighs. Aziraphale let his hands roam down the demon's sides, down to his hips. 

Crowley relished in the touch for a few moments. It had been so long since he'd had Aziraphale's hands on him. They'd become more careful, since their last few interactions. Aziraphale was being checked up on, more frequently than they were both used to. Aziraphale had always been careful. It was a rare luxury, touching like this, so Crowley stayed as still as possible, to keep from startling the man away. 

He let himself tuck a little closer, settling onto Aziraphale's shoulder. The angel pulled him close, quickly. 

" _ Satan,  _ you're warm," Crowley breathed. "Has anyone ever told you that?" 

Aziraphale chuckled. "No." 

"Like a black rock on a summer day." He let his lips brush against Aziraphale's neck.

Aziraphale leaned into the touch. "Aren't you a poet."

Crowley smiled. "Only for you, angel." He let his eyes drift shut. 

Aziraphale continued his gentle assault on Crowley's skin. He let his hands drift under Crowley's makeshift coverings, letting his fingertips dig into his back.

"I could stay here forever," Crowley whispered. 

Aziraphale turned to meet his eyes. "I'd let you." 

Crowley closed the distance between their lips. He let his hands settle on Aziraphale's jaw, pulling him closer as he softly kissed the angel's pink lips. Aziraphale dragged Crowley closer to him, bringing them flush together. 

Aziraphale was careful not to grip Crowley too tightly, in fear of hurting him, but Crowley had no such apprehension, wrapping around Aziraphale tightly, with his winding up into his down-soft curls, his arms draped over the angel's sturdy shoulders. 

Aziraphale let out a soft groan as Crowley's tongue brushed up against his bottom lip, parting his mouth to greet it warmly. 

They stayed like that, wrapped up in eachother, until Crowley pulled back, sitting against Aziraphale's thighs. 

He plucked the pins from off of the cloth, tossing them where they wouldn't poke anyone, and let Aziraphale run his hands along the expanse of his back and chest. Aziraphale fingers ran down Crowley's ribs and hips, down the soft pink scar on his side, before once again tugging him closer. 

Aziraphale left soft kisses along the crook of his neck, until meeting the sharp edge of his collarbone.

Crowley realized rather quickly that Aziraphale remained fully dressed. He voiced this concern to the angel, who smiled against Crowley's skin, before pulling back.

Crowley rucked up Aziraphale's tunic, pulling it over his head. He kissed him once, squarely on the lips, before letting his hands travel along the curves of the angel's skin. 

"I missed this, you know," Crowley breathed, his arms once again draped over Aziraphale's shoulders. 

Aziraphale hummed in agreement, his lips trailing down Crowley's neck, pressing gentle but sucking kisses down to the curve of his shoulder. His tongue darted out softly before nipping at Crowley's collarbone, causing the demon to let out a soft gasp. 

He pulled Crowley's hips against his. Crowley could feel his arousal pressing through his trousers, against the nearly useless cloth, belted at Crowley's hips. Crowley gave an experimental roll of his hips. One of them let out a groan, and Aziraphale tightened his hold on Crowley. He took it as a sign to continue. He gave slow ruts against the angel, who was now firmly holding Crowley's bottom, supporting the motion. 

He ran his tongue up the line of Crowley's neck as he arched backwards. 

"What do you want, dearest?" Aziraphale asked, the sweet sentiment undercut slightly by the roughness of his voice. 

Crowley set his hands firmly on Aziraphale's chest, pushing him to the furs beneath him. 

"You," he said, "if you're willing." His hands dragged down to the string of his trousers. 

"More than."

Aziraphale let out a deep breath, as Crowley freed his erection from the confines of his trousers. Crowley pressed a few kisses down the angel's chest and stomach, landing just above the blond trail of hair, pointing him in a very specific direction. 

Crowley looked up to see if Aziraphale was alright, and he was greeted by a pleasant pink flush along his chest, and lovely dilated blue eyes. Aziraphale nodded sharply, and Crowley smiled. 

Crowley pressed his tongue - only slightly longer than the average human's - to the tip of Aziraphale's cock, taking it in his hand softly. He then left a lingering lick along the underside, before taking it in his mouth. 

He heard Aziraphale let out a deep, closed-mouth moan, as he felt him dig his soft fingers into his hair. He continued to take Aziraphale deeper into his mouth, curling his tongue slowly around the width of him. 

He thanked someone for his below average gag reflex, as Aziraphale hit the back of his throat. 

" _ Crowley, _ " Aziraphale gasped, tightening his grip in Crowley's hair. " _ Ah- fuck."  _

Crowley moaned as he felt the pinpricks of pain against his scalp. He gripped Aziraphale's thighs - his  _ thighs, Satan -  _ as he began to travel up and down Aziraphale's cock. 

Aziraphale tried to keep himself from thrusting into the heat of Crowley's mouth, but at one particularly talented hollowing of his cheeks, he jerked his hips, hitting the back of Crowley's throat once more. 

He moaned loudly. 

" _ Crowley, _ " he gasped, "Crowley-  _ wait."  _

Crowley pulled off with a pop. 

Aziraphale groaned. Crowley could only imagine what he looked like, his mouth slick with spit, and his golden eyes spread out into the corners of his eyes. His jaw had begun to ache pleasantly, and he made a show of wetting his bottom lip with his tongue. Aziraphale took his hand out of his hair, and pulled him up to straddle him once more. He tugged at Crowley's belt, pulling away the last bit of fabric preserving Crowley's decency. They'd clearly crossed that threshold already. 

Now, Crowley was naked against the angel. Aziraphale kissed his reddened lips desperately, trailing his hands to settle in the divots of his hips. 

" _ Crowley,  _ do you want-" 

" _ Yes, angel _ ." He breathed.

"You don't even know what I was going to say," he protested. 

Crowley ground his cock against Aziraphale's. "In this position, angel? I can make an educated guess." 

Aziraphale laughed, before tracing his fingers down to the cleft of Crowley's ass. 

Crowley snapped his fingers, and felt the strange sensation of him being prepared, his hole slick. Aziraphale tutted at him teasingly. 

"I don't mind that part, you know." 

Crowley shrugged. Aziraphale, to test, Crowley supposed, softly pressed his fingers against his rim. Crowley let out a soft groan as he slowly fucked him with his fingers - two, after all, he'd already miracled himself ready. 

Aziraphale kissed along his jawline, before pulling out, and gripping the demon's hips.

"Are you ready, my dear?" He asked. Crowley nodded vigorously. 

Aziraphale lifted him up with ease, Crowley lining himself up with the angel, before settling down around his cock. 

He lowered himself slowly, adjusting to the angel's slightly above average girth, and let out a soft moan. 

He tentatively began to roll his hips, grinding down against the angel, who was gripping his hips hard enough to leave marks that Crowley would happily examine the next day. He listened to Aziraphale's panting, knowing full well that he was making some fascinating noises of his own. 

After adjusting to Aziraphale, and after grinding in slow circles for a few moments, he gently pushed on Aziraphale's shoulders, and began to ride him in earnest. He felt so pleasantly  _ full,  _ the nerve endings inside him lighting up as Aziraphale's cock moved inside him. 

" _ Angel, _ " he gasped, as one particularly good angle caught the bundle of nerves inside him that made his legs (and so many other lovely things) go all tingly. 

Aziraphale dug his fingers into Crowley's hips as he thrust up into Crowley, meeting his eager bounces. 

Crowley wrapped his arms around the angel, pulling him in for another loose kiss, that was broken apart by soft moans and pants. Aziraphale tugged Crowley's bottom lip with his teeth, and Crowley let out a groan. Aziraphale had picked up his speed on his thrusts, and Crowley met him eagerly. 

" _ Go- fuck, Crowley, _ " Aziraphale breathed, " _ you're so- ah - wonderful, darling. _ "

Crowley preened, smiling as he continued to speed up his pace. Crowley never wanted to let go of this, never wanted to stop clinging to Aziraphale, hearing him say his name with such bloody  _ worship.  _ He'd fall to his knees for Aziraphale any day, but this was as close as he'd get from the angel, and it haunted him in his dreams at night.

He felt Aziraphale' study thighs beneath him, and he clutched onto Aziraphale's arms, shutting his eyes tightly as he searched for his release. Crowley's own cock was trapped beneath the curve of Aziraphale's stomach and his own, each upward motion setting him alight. 

Suddenly, he felt a shooting stab of pain shoot out from his side. He stuttered his hips, and Aziraphale stilled inside him. 

"Crowley?" He asked, breathing heavy, but his voice sharp with concern. 

Crowley grimaced, feeling the pain reside. 

"Too much, my dear?" He asked, and Crowley panicked.  _ No,  _ he wanted to say,  _ please, I'd tear myself apart for more of this, please don't stop,  _ but Aziraphale had already begun to lift the demon off of him. 

Crowley settled for a particularly eloquent whine, as Aziraphale set him on the ground. 

Crowley felt  _ empty,  _ his entire body begging for touch, and luckily, Aziraphale didn't withhold it from him for long. 

He set Crowley down on the furs, climbing on top of him so that his arms framed Crowley's head. 

"How about I take it from here?" He asked, already pulling Crowley's hips up to meet him. Crowley nodded frantically, and cried out as Aziraphale thrust into him once more. 

He started out slow, the drag of his cock inching along Crowley, just shy of what he needed, for the sake of caution. 

" _ Angel, please, _ " he moaned " _ harder. _ "

Aziraphale quickly complied. He fucked into Crowley with a renewed vigor, lifting Crowley's hips to hit his prostate on every thrust. 

Crowley became aware of the way he moaned out Aziraphale's name, babbling on endlessly as he came closer and closer to his release. 

Aziraphale wasn't far behind, his lips pressing against his neck frantically as his thrusts came quicker, losing his rhythm. 

" _ Crowley, _ " he panted, " _ I'm close. _ " 

Crowley locked his ankles behind Aziraphale, pulling him in deeper. " _ In me, fuck, Aziraphale, in me. _ "

Aziraphale complied. He thrust into him a few more times, before stuttering his hips and coming deep inside the demon. Crowley felt the hot spurts of his release, accompanied by Aziraphale continuing to piston into him, and he felt his eyes go white. Crying out Aziraphale's name, he came between them, before laying back against the ground. 

Aziraphale lay on top of him for a moment, and Crowley relished in the soft warmth of him. Soon, he turned over onto his back, and Crowley clung onto him, intertwining himself around his legs and onto his chest. 

They lay there for a moment, breathing heavily. He felt Aziraphale run his fingers through his hair, down his neck, and over his shoulder. 

He wrapped his arm around Aziraphale's chest. With a thought, he cleaned up his front, leaving Aziraphale's spend for later. He still felt pleasantly well-fucked, and he'd leave it until it got irritating. 

"Are you alright?" Aziraphale asked, tilting his head to meet the blissed out golden eyes of his companion. 

Crowley nodded. "Absolutely, angel." 

They settled in the afterglow for a moment, before Crowley felt Aziraphale tense underneath him.

"Crowley…" Aziraphale said gently, searching for something. "You should leave."

Crowley felt his heart clench. The oh-so-familiar panic settled into his veins, and he pulled himself away from Aziraphale. "Angel?" He asked, his voice barely over a whisper. 

Aziraphale cupped Crowley's face in his hands and kissed him softly. "Not right away, dearest. That's not- that's not what I meant." 

Crowley still sat up on his knees, frowning at the angel. He still felt pleasantly sore, and tried to stay in the feeling for a moment longer. 

"Just, eventually. They'll come back, they'll find this place, they'll try and-"

"And what? the only reason they even scratched me was because of your holy weapon. It'll be fine." He sighed. Aziraphale nudged closer to him. 

"I have no worries about your own safety, Crowley. I know you can protect yourself. But being in an endless fight with a few knights? Either you'll have to kill them, or they'll find a way to hurt you." He sighed, running his hand down Crowley's arm, before taking his wrist in his hand. He pulled the soft skin to his mouth, where he kissed it reverently. 

Crowley understood. He didn't like it, but he understood. 

"I could help you find somewhere safe, if you'd like. I'm sure there are other places in need of mischief." He straightened up for a moment, in thought. "You could come back to the village, if you wanted. As a human, that is." 

Crowley tilted his head, in questioning. "I thought you thwarted my mischief, angel." 

Aziraphale shrugged. "You've earned a little, I think." He smiled. "Consider it an apology for getting you hurt." 

"Oh?" Crowley said lightly, ignoring the fact that Aziraphale was still blaming himself, "I thought that was your apology earlier." 

Aziraphale chuckled. "Mm. Perhaps." He kissed Crowley softly. "Is that a yes? You'll come to the village with me?" 

Crowley thought for a moment. Aziraphale never let him linger after something like this, they let the afterglow fade, then they parted ways. He  _ absolutely  _ wanted to follow Aziraphale around, to follow him around, both of them spreading low grade something or other. Perhaps Crowley could stay with Aziraphale, wake up with him, have breakfast, whatever it was that Aziraphale did when he was alone. 

Perhaps that's why he hummed, and said in a voice that he didn't recognize as his own, "yes. I will."

He would think about it more later. Now, he lay back down, with the angel beside him, as they - for the first time - made plans for the future.

**Author's Note:**

> Aziraphale be like "Crowley can have a little mischief, as a treat."
> 
> Thanks for reading! I left it pretty open ended, so I might come back to this someday. Let me know if that would be something you'd be into, or yell at me on tumblr @writing-mostly-probably!


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